


Appreciation

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:38:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy was excited to be off the hook for cooking Thanksgiving, but it turns out Clarke needs help. Which is actually kind of better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Appreciation

**Author's Note:**

> Just some very quick holiday fluff. Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

"It's a giant bird!" Clarke argues.

"Yeah, good job, you figured out what a turkey is!" Bellamy shoots back. "And?"

"And that means you cook it like you cook a normal bird, just more."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he says, rubbing his face. 

He'd honestly been pretty pumped for Thanksgiving at Octavia and Clarke's. He likes Clarke--likes Clarke way too much, honestly--and he was looking forward to relaxing and being a guest and not having to cook for once. Plus, most of O and Clarke's friends are fun, and he figured he'd drink some beer, watch some sports, play some video games, and maybe hit on Clarke a little once everyone was too tipsy to not think about it too much. It sounded like a great holiday.

His sister called at ten to say, "I think you should come over and help before Clarke starts to cry," so he'd of course gotten dressed in record time and gotten to their apartment, where Clarke was just kind of staring at the turkey in mute horror.

"You know there's this thing called Google, right? Google will tell you all sorts of stuff about turkey."

"I know," she says, and her voice is actually a little shaky, which is about the worst thing that's ever happened to him. Clarke is one of those people who's always in control, and the slightest hint of genuine upset from her basically wrecks him.

He glances around, makes sure Octavia isn't around, and slides in next to her, pressing his shoulder against hers. "What?"

"I was supposed to do everything yesterday. Find recipes, get all the shopping done, make sure I had all my shit together. But my mom called at, like, none in the morning and we got in a huge fight about how I wasn't coming home and I was just kind of worthless for the rest of the day."

"You should have called me," he says, and immediately regrets it. She has about ten million people she'd call before him in a crisis. "I've been doing Thanksgiving for me and O for years," he adds. "I could have told you what to get."

She's resolutely not looking at him. "I told Octavia _not_ to call you," she admits, and it sucks for a second until she continues, "She said you were really excited you didn't have to cook this year, so I told her I'd handle it." Her smile is wry. "I figured you could use a break."

He's stunned speechless for a minute, but recovers enough to give her a smile and bump his shoulder against his. "Don't be a martyr," he tells her, even though his voice comes out a little gruff. "Getting to save Clarke Griffin for her own hubris? Best Thanksgiving ever. Come on, show me what we've got to work with."

Clarke bites back on a smile, which is so much better than her being sad, and slightly better than her being pissed. Or, well, it's more of a lateral move from her being pissed. Arguing with Clarke is one of his favorite activities. But making her happy is pretty great too.

She at least has basically all the necessary ingredients for things, and it's actually kind of _fun_ , once they've gotten things sorted. Octavia both hates and sucks at cooking, so he's used to going it alone, but Clarke's issues stem from stress and inexperience, not lack of talent or interest, and she's willing to accept him as an authority on how Thanksgiving cooking should work. The two of them are actually a pretty good team, and it's nice being in the kitchen with her, dancing around each other as he does the turkey and she makes pies.

He is not going to think about all the ways this is nice and how much he would like to make meals with her more often, because that way lies, if not madness, at least some seasonally inappropriate moping, so he just tamps down on the warm and fuzzy feelings attempting to invade his life and focuses on the meal instead. They've got shit to do.

"Okay," Clarke says, slumping against his side at around four. Everything isn't finished, but they're in a lull, and nothing needs to be done right this minute. Plus, they're on track for everyone showing up at six and eating at six-thirty. And she's leaning on him. It's been a very successful day. "I admit it. I was wrong to think I could handle Thanksgiving solo. I was being full of myself."

He puts his arm around her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. "Honestly, if you'd just googled some shit and started a few things yesterday, you would have been fine. But you should just let me help out next year. I don't mind cooking. It's a lot better with company."

"Okay," she agrees, with a small smile. "Next year, we'll do it together."

Ordinarily, he'd think he was imagining the catch in her voice and the tension in the air, but she's pressed all up against his side and smiling like she knows a secret, so--maybe it's not just him.

One of the timers goes before he can try to do something about it, though, and Clarke sighs and steps away from him. "That's my pie," she says, overly cheerful. "And you probably need to check the bird again."

"Yeah," he says. "I'm on it."

It's all business again from there, and other people start showing up, offering help, shattering the bubble of Clarke-and-Bellamy-do-Thanksgiving that he was very much enjoying, but whatever. It's still fun, and she keeps throwing him smiles or making faces at him when Finn tries to help with shit to impress her. He might get in there first every time, not because he's threatened by Finn--Finn is way too much of an douchebag to be a threat--but just because he's the actual expert here. And it makes Clarke grin at him. Definitely win/win.

It ends up being quite a meal, if he does say so himself. Clarke does better sides than he does, and his turkey is as flawless as ever. He has no idea what she put in the gravy, but it's the best she's ever had, and she also has a knack for pie.

"We should do Thanksgiving every year," he murmurs to her, fortified by a couple glasses of wine and the fact that she did the seating and put the two of them next to each other. "We're an awesome team."

"Like I said, next year I'll just consult you from the start," she says, grinning back at him.

Octavia clinks her fork against her glass, and Bellamy groans. "Shut _up_ , Bell!" she says. "This is important! It's _Thanksgiving_ , we have to go around and say what we're thankful for."

"I was going to be thankful we weren't doing this, but apparently we are, so you ruined that," he teases.

" _I'm_ thankful for my new kitten, and my awesome boyfriend," Octavia says, ignoring him and beaming at Lincoln. "I'm thankful to Clarke for setting this up and being the best roommate ever. I'm thankful for all you guys, honestly. Except Bellamy, I just begrudgingly put up with him because we're related."

"Love you too, O," he says, and everyone else raises their glasses.

Everyone does their standard things, thankful for friends and family and Netflix, but Clarke's looking weirdly pensive, and when it gets to her, she just says, deliberately casual, "I'm thankful for Bellamy," and his heart lodges in his throat.

"Any particular reason?" Raven asks.

"He saved Thanksgiving," says Clarke, eyes darting to him with a small smile. "And, you know. He's not _always_ a total dick."

He expects her to go on, say something else, so it's not literally _just him_ , but she just raises her eyebrows at him and prompts, "Your turn."

"Uh, I'm thankful we only have two more of these to go after me," he says, but his voice comes out funny. "And I'm thankful O called me before Clarke burned the apartment down trying to cook the turkey without my expert opinion."

Octavia gives him a supremely unimpressed look, but Clarke is smiling, and when he reaches under the table and finds her hand during Jasper's little speech, she squeezes back and doesn't let go until the meal is over.

After dinner, Clarke announces, "Everyone who didn't cook is required to help with dishes. So, that's everyone but me and Bellamy. Have fun. Don't destroy any of my nice pottery."

"So, all of us are doing dishes and you and Bellamy are going somewhere else?" Raven asks, eyebrows raised.

"That's what I'm saying, yeah," says Clarke, and drags him unceremoniously off while their friends jeer.

"Uh, was this part of some weird Thanksgiving plot?" Bellamy asks, tripping after her as she tugs him toward her room. "Because, seriously, that's romantic or whatever, but really not necessary."

"I was trying to do something nice for you."

Once they're in her room, he leans down to capture her lips with his, heart racing as she throws her arms around him without hesitation and kisses back.

"Seriously, romantic, but so fucking unnecessary," he says, resting his forehead on hers.

"What can I say? I like big gestures. This one kind of backfired, but--"

"No, it was perfect." He kisses her again. "I am really, really thankful for you," he adds. "I don't think I mentioned that earlier."

"I figured it out," she says, smiling.

Next year, they have Thanksgiving dinner for everyone at _their_ place, and while it's not the best Thanksgiving ever, that's just because their first one set so high a bar. He won't mind if they never top it.


End file.
